by Bea Biddle
Karen had watched him go. He was long gone when she finally snapped out of her stupor, but that didn't stop her from sneering in his direction. “And you should mind your own business,” she mumbled after him. She scoffed, satisfied. That would teach him. She turned back to the diner, gently placed her hand on the doorknob. She might as well, she had come all this way. Oddly enough. She stomped out what little was left of her cigarette, opened the door with great apprehension, and then walked inside.
Inside it looked like any old diner that she had ever been in, it wasn't at all like she had expected with the outside looking like it did. There were booths in the back, there was a counter, there were doors into the kitchen. There were even few people scattered around the tables and they didn't look like bikers or gang members or murderers, they looked normal enough. All staring at her like she was some sort of alien, but still, normal enough. The only thing that stuck out to Karen was the lack of staff. There were none. No one behind the counter, no one at the tables, nothing.
One man stood up. He pulled on his jacket and walked slowly past Karen, eyeing her up and down as he did. Karen watched him place money on the counter and walk to the door. She followed him with her eyes all the way out to the street until the door shut behind him. She found it weird that the man was so trusting of all these other customers, just leaving his money on the counter like that. They could easily be snatched up. She looked back at the notes he had left on the counter. But they were gone. The cash register dinged. But there was still no one there. Karen started wondering if they were perhaps hiding, but that seemed ridiculous.
"Karen," someone exclaimed from the kitchen doors. It was the woman from last night, wearing the same trench coat and a giant smile. As she walked over to Karen, she extended her hand in greeting. "I'm so glad you showed up, although I knew you would. You just missed the morning rush."
"Yes, so I must have," Karen said, shaking her hand awkwardly while sneaking another look around the diner. The customers still eyed her suspiciously, it was so strange, and she felt incredibly uncomfortable.
"Come into my office."
Karen followed her happily, ready to get out of view of the customers that obviously didn't know how to mind their own business. Through the kitchen, where someone had been cooking, she just wasn't sure of what, the smells were strange to her, and into the office. The first thing Karen noticed was the stack of papers on the desk. Her papers. Her resumes. Her, no longer wet, no sign of them ever being rolled up and slammed across a wolf's nose, resumes. "What the hell?" she blurted out, without thinking.
"Oh yes, I've enjoyed reading about you, Karen Parker," the woman announced happily. Her face looked exactly the same, Karen still couldn't put an age on her. It annoyed her. And why was she still wearing that trench coat inside?
"You have?" Karen asked.
"My name is Alyssa Edwards," she introduced herself. "The owner of Dead End Diner." She looked at Karen expectantly, but when Karen said nothing she motioned to an empty chair in front of her desk. "Please, sit down." Karen did. She looked around the office, nothing out of the ordinary there, nothing she could put her finger on, and yet, something was off about Alyssa, she could almost feel it in the air when she was close to her. "I'm very impressed with the way you handled yourself in the park yesterday," Alyssa said after having studied Karen for a few silent moments.
Karen snapped back to reality. "In the park yesterday?" She thought back to yesterday, as hard as she wanted to forget that it happened, as hard as she tried pretending it hadn't, she remembered every single detail. And she could have sworn she saw someone there under a tree, watching her as she was about to become dinner. And she had been right. "You were there," she cried, "I knew I saw someone!"
"Yes, and like I said I was very impressed."
"Why didn't you help? Why didn't you call the cops or the fire department or something? Anything?"
Alyssa cocked her head to the side and smiled calmly. "You looked like you were doing alright by yourself."
"I could have died!"
"You didn't though, did you?" Alyssa asked, still with her calm smile and it was really starting to piss Karen off. "Listen, Karen," she continued quickly as she recognized the expression of a furious woman opposite her, "I bet you're wondering why I asked you to come work for me?"
"No, I'm still wondering why you didn't help me yesterday," Karen snapped.
"It's not every day you see a human stand up to a Were, and even better, a human living to tell the tale." Alyssa winked at her. "As I said, I was very impressed."
"A Were?" Karen tasted the word, giving her brain something else to work with besides anger. Alyssa nodded encouragingly letting Karen finish her train of thought. "A Were? Werewolf?" Karen asked in disbelief, "A werewolf. I'm sorry, what?"
"Yes, it must come as a surprise to you." Alyssa had a laugh like a row of jingling bells. "Usually they don't get out during their transformation night, full moon if you will, but accidents do happen. I had security out to get him, of course, but running into you made our night very interesting indeed."
"Yeah, I bet." Karen had no clue what kind of madwoman she was talking to. She scratched her head thoughtfully. Playing along, being polite, not rocking the boat, that seemed to be the way to go. "Uhm, good?"
"And when I saw you taking him on, I knew you would be the one for the job. You see, I need a human."
"A human?" Karen questioned, "Why do you need a human?"
"Waitstaff, of course," Alyssa answered as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Karen nodded. "And what do you have now?"
"Ghosts.”
Karen almost burst out laughing, she only managed to return to somewhat of a straight face when Alyssa's eyebrows knitted together in disapproval. "I'm sorry," she coughed, trying to disguise a chuckle. "Did you say Ghosts?"
"Ghosts, you may be surprised to learn, do not follow a normal twenty-four-hour day. They show up when they feel like it, they could be here for three days straight and then not seen again for a month. It's really rather frustrating running a business like that. They have absolutely no concept of time," Alyssa explained, picking up a pen and began tapping it on the table. "Werewolves are no good either. They're fine employees until the moon turns against them, and I can't give them all holiday the same week every month. The amount of raw meat I'd lose alone is enough to give me heart palpitations. And vampires would drink every bottle if I let them near the blood cellar. I have only one working for me, Sylvester Sevenskins, and he gives me enough headaches as it is." She rubbed her forehead dramatically. "He's a pain in the neck, no pun intended."
Karen fought hard against laughing, but a strange smile managed to creep out on her face. "Really? Vampires as well? Really?"
"No, no more of those please." Alyssa stood up and motioned for Karen to do the same. "No, I need a human, a hardworking human that understands time and commitment and doesn't want to destroy my place when natural urges press on."
"Right," Karen said. She scrambled to her feet. "Well, that sounds incredibly interesting, and I'm sure you'll find this special human that you need." Karen shook her head. "I am not her."
"I think you are," Alyssa said and extended her hand for her to shake again.
Karen took it, trying to be friendly, but also shook her head vigorously. "No, no I am not. Definitely not." She burst out laughing, unable to hold it in anymore. "Good day, Miss Edwards." She walked slowly backward out of the room, away from the obviously mad woman, and into the kitchen. Pots and pans were scraped, dishes were being washed, utensils were packed away, and plates were being stacked on the shelves. An old radio in the corner was blasting music, only adding to the noise level in there. She recognized the tune, an old Marvin Gaye number, Heard It Through the Grapevine. It was a completely normal, busy kitchen being cleaned. Only there was no one in there. Everything was happening as if by magic. Karen gasped and stumbled backward, pressing her back hard against the wall.
&
nbsp; "You might as well meet Pete." Alyssa appeared next to her, calm as ever. She gestured to the noisy kitchen. "He may be a poltergeist, but he sure can cook. Well, cook what we need anyway. All he asks is Motown on the radio and a kitchen to call his own. Say hello Pete." The plates and pots and pans dropped slowly from the air and landed on the shiny metallic counters with a clatter. "This is Karen, our new waitress," Alyssa said into the now, seemingly, empty kitchen. Karen couldn't breathe, this was a dream, it had to be. A white rag on the wall waved in the wind from the open window, or was it waving at her?
She finally found her voice, only it wasn't a greeting she heard coming out, it was a scream. A loud, clear scream. And then she ran. Jumped through the door into the diner. She stopped herself before crashing into a man looming near the counter, she didn't have time to recover before he turned around and growled at her. Fangs in his snarling mouth made her stumble backward again, letting out yet another loud scream. She sprang back and escaped through the first and the best doors she could find.
And ended up in the bathroom. She locked the door and collapsed on the toilet, wrapping her arms around herself, trying to calm down as she rocked back and forth. This wasn't happening, this so wasn't happening. Her skin was crawling and itching all over. Karen let her head hang between her legs, took a deep breath, exhaled, and inhaled, and exhaled again. But then remembered that she was in a toilet stall and sat straight back up. She wished she had a bag to breathe into, not that she had ever tried it, but that worked for people on TV all the time. She let out a low wail. She couldn't stay there. It felt claustrophobic and cramped. The walls were closing in, she just knew it. Her head was swimming with thoughts and she couldn't make any one of them out.
She shook her hands and her head, her shoulder length hair whipping around her, it had somehow escaped her ponytail when she was fleeing. No, this was ridiculous. She was being ridiculous. She was hiding in the bathroom of a diner. And Alyssa had been nothing but nice to her. Karen swiftly stood, determined to be brave. But another thought crept in. Maybe she was just buttering her up? Maybe Karen was to be dinner that night? She fought the urge to bite down on her fist. Instead, she gently hit her forehead with it. She was being stupid again, she wouldn't have offered her a job if that had been the case, would she? Gathering up all the courage she possessed, or what little she could manage at that moment, she finally unlocked the bathroom door and walked out.
The diner was empty, thankfully, it had closed. Alyssa was sitting at the counter on a tall stool, one leg on top of the other, and her laced-up boot swinging back and forth while reading over a piece of paper. A tall glass of bubbling white wine stood in front of her on the counter. Karen was relieved to see no fangs in sight anywhere.
At least that's what she thought. Next to Alyssa, a tall, lean man rested against the counter. His casual, relaxed attitude was apparent in more than his half unbuttoned, silky, black shirt, open just enough to tease a pale, shapely chest, and with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His dark dress pants fitted him like a glove and his shoes were polished to perfection. His hair was silvery blonde, carefully styled in a fashioned mess, a sharp contrast to his dark, neat eyebrows. He sipped elegantly on a wine glass with red wine. She noticed the black painted, pointy nails when he raised the glass to his full lips. No, the color of the wine was off. It was a dark red liquid, thicker than wine. No, it couldn't be. It couldn't be blood, could it?
He lazily turned his head, the ice blue eyes bore into hers and her breath got caught in her throat. He raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at her, blinking slowly, a deeply sensual action, as he licked his lips, the sight of his tongue made Karen blush. To say he was attractive was an understatement, to say he was devastatingly handsome would only belittle him. The man oozed sex, the man embodied sensuality, but on such a feral level that Karen felt like prey. She didn't like it. After he had looked her up and down, he smiled a dazzling smile at her. And there they were. Fangs.
"Sylvester," Alyssa introduced him to Karen when she finally noticed her standing there. "You'll be working under him."
"Well, lucky me," he drawled seductively, “I will be looking forward to that.” His voice was low with a dangerous edge to it. She wasn't at all surprised to hear his British accent. Flashing a wide, perfect grin at her, he gave her a slow wink and the hairs on her neck quivered. "We've all heard the stories of you teaching a Were a lesson." He laughed and took another sip from the glass dangling from his elegant fingertips. "Well done," he added, sounding almost bored.
"I'm... I'm not working here," Karen coughed out.
"Sure you are," Alyssa said, "It'll take time to get used to things, of course, but do take this." Alyssa walked over to her and handed her the paper she had been looking at. It was a contract of employment, shoved into her hand so fast she couldn't do anything other than take it. "Go home, rest. We're only open at night, obviously. From six till the last customer leaves in the morning. So, come back tonight." Alyssa left, giving her a final sweet smile, and the doors to the kitchen swung shut.
Karen now realized she was in the same room with Sylvester. Alone. She swallowed hard as he sauntered over to her, the glass still in his hand and a seductive smile on his face. His eyes locked on hers and his grin exposing just enough of his fangs to make her swallow hard. "I assure you, I don't bite."
Her mouth ran dry instantly and she took a few involuntary steps backward. "That joke is in poor taste, just a little, don't you think?"
"Perhaps." He licked his lips again with a chuckle. "Lighten up. Humans are so sensitive." He ran a slim finger down the side of her face and along her jaw. It was cold, so very cold. "But so tasty too." That was too much for Karen, she bolted for the door. "I was only joking," Sylvester cried after her, laughing loudly. Karen didn't care, she tore open the door, the bell ringing furiously, and ran outside.
Straight into the arms of another person. They landed on the cold asphalt, limbs tangled together. Taken completely by surprise, Karen couldn't convince her body to get up. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" she yelled. Craning her neck to see who she had landed on, she found the dreadlock-wearing man from earlier. He groaned as he sat up, peeling Karen from his body. Every one of her nerves was on edge and she wasn't sure how to react, part of her felt angry at him for not warning her about the place earlier, even if they didn't know each other. She needed someone to let her frustration out on. "You! Dammit!" she yelled at him "You again!"
"Yes," he growled and stood up, brushing off his jeans. "I forgot something, is that a crime?"
She climbed onto her unwilling, shaky legs. "Do you know what kind of place this is?" she hissed.
Shaking his head, he turned his back to her and opened the door. "Humans," he mumbled and shook his head one more time, before disappearing into the diner leaving Karen alone in the shadows outside. Then she ran, ran out into the streets into the welcoming sunlight. Out there people were still walking around carelessly, as if their world hadn't just been completely torn apart.
"Yeah, well, stupid hat," she yelled after him from the safe distance of the busy street, where no one batted an eyelash that she was yelling into a seemingly empty alleyway.
Three.
She didn't know what made her do it. Maybe it was the pressure from her mother, and Colin, or maybe her own curiosity. Maybe some obscene deathwish she didn't even know she had. Whatever it was, it had pushed and pulled at her, and wasn't satisfied until Karen was standing in front of the diner that following evening.
When she had finally made it home, after what she considered a very unorthodox job interview that left her both terrified and shaken to the core, she was so mentally exhausted that she had curled up under the sheets, still in her clothes and shoes, and fallen asleep. She had slept like a log, not dreaming, not moving, and for that reason, she was now late. She glanced at her phone, ten to seven. Make that very late.
The city wasn't completely covered in darkness yet, but the buildings surrounding the diner had it in
deep shadows that mirrored the blackest night. She placed her hand on the doorknob, took a deep breath, and pushed her way inside. The place was busier than she expected, tables were full, booths were stuffed, even the stools at the counter were occupied. What she hadn't expected was just how normal everyone looked. As if it was just a diner. Just a regular, old diner. She had expected monsters, big hairy, winged monsters, and werewolves lurching about the place, and ghosts floating in the air above the tables. Some part of her brain had even imagined a creepy, screechy, old gramophone playing in the background, adding to the ambiance. But no.
"You're late." Karen was dragged out of her thoughts as Sylvester pushed two plates into her hands. "I thought Alyssa hired a human to be on time?" She looked up at the much taller Sylvester, his perfect eyebrow raised in question, but before she could squeeze any sound out through her lips he sighed in irritation. "Never mind. Get these to table six."
"But-" Karen looked down at the plates. A steak on each with a dollop of minced meat on top. Raw. A pool of blood was forming around them and she had to concentrate on not tipping the plate or it would be running down her arms. "These aren't cooked?"
Sylvester laughed at her, one hand on his small waist, the other holding the stem of a wine glass filled with blood. "You don't say? Go on, you'll get the hang of it. What's that saying? Trial by fire? Hop to it, my little human." He walked away, leaving Karen in the middle of the diner, with not a clue what to do now.
"Alright," she breathed, "Table six?" She nervously looked around, people were staring at her. Or was it people? Was it something else? On further inspection, there was something off about the people in there. So many of them eyed her hungrily, their mouths watering at the sight of her plates. A young woman sitting at her right started whispering to her male companion, still eying up Karen. They were beautiful, stunning really. The man slowly kissed the woman's wrist, fangs scraping along the smooth skin, and the woman purred loudly while giggling at Karen's dumbstruck expression. Fangs. Of course. Obviously vampires. Suddenly the diner didn't look as normal as before. And Karen took a few careful steps away from that particular table.